What Does He Have That I Don't?
by sallonesque
Summary: [Tabooslash] [GeorgePhilip implied] What does he have that I don't? What will he do that I won't? Just about anything! It's cheap, it's nasty and deceitful, human nature is so cruel. Philip is jealous of George and Marcus' relationship.
1. Out of Fashion

Disclaimer: Though they are fictional characters from a show, they are based on real people. I do not own these people or the people who own them.

Notes: I don't own them, but man, I wish I was a part of their world. Their world was better. They were better, they were pretty, they were popular, people liked them. Okay. No more quoting, promise. This is my first bit of Taboo slash, but it's been almost a year and a half in the making. I've been wanting to write some Taboo stuff ever since I saw it back in December of 2003, but nothing came to me until recently.

Roger -

Thanks for your help inspiring me with this one, hon. Your insight to Marcus and Sue has helped me write them to the best of my Philip-brained ability.

- April

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**Out of Fashion**

"Honestly, George, I don't understand it."

"There's nothing to understand, Philip. I love him."

Philip's gaze dropped to the floor, his facade of nonchalance momentarily lost. Before George had time to respond to this, he hitched his smug grin back up and tossed his black curls off his shoulder.

"Fine."

He began to walk away, plaid hips swaying as though nothing had happened.

As if he hadn't been turned away for the umpteenth time.

"Philip, don't be like that."

George pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"I'm sorry, alright? I can't help it. He's just so.. he'll take care of me. He's smart and funny and sweet and--"

"Oh, I don't care _what_ he is, George! He's a liar and a fake and he'll end up hurting you. You'd be safer just sticking with us - people like you," against his better judgement, he took George's hand and brought it to his chest, "people like us, we're not part of their world. You'll never fit in there. He'll ask you to change to

belong and he'll never accept you. _They'll _never accept you. I--"

George pulled his hand away angrily and ran it through his long brown hair.

"I don't care! And he wouldn't. He loves me, Philip. He loves me and he wants me just the way I am. If you'd stop being so thick for a minute you'd see that. He doesn't want to change me. He knows who I am."

"And I don't."

The only thought running through Philip's head was that he mustn't cry in front of George. It would ruin his makeup, his image and worst of all - George would feel sorry for him. That was unacceptable.

"Philip, please. Just.. let me do this? Please?"

Without looking up at George's face, Philip nodded, toying idily with the chain around his neck.

"Fine. But I don't want to hear one word of complaint when I'm right."

"Why don't you believe me?"

"Haven't you ever wondered if the only reason he even looked twice at you was because you were convenient? And, _conveniently_, you look close enough to being a girl to not cause a problem."

"Of course I have! Don't you think I wonder about that all the time? But I know that's not the only bit. And besides, why shouldn't I be able to have what _I_ want for once in my life? I shouldn't always only have to be with guys because _they _want _me. _And _I_ want _Marcus_."

"Oh. Oh, I see."

Philip had wanted to question whether or not George had ever wanted him, but it was painfully apparent to him that this was not the case. Rather than stare at the floor any longer, Philip tossed his head back and put his haughty smile back on.

"Very well, then. But ask yourself, seriously, George; is he strong enough to protect you from himself?"

"You're still a friend, Philip."

"Since I'm _obviously_ not wanted here, I'll have to excuse myself. Some of us have _friends _to attend to. And outfits to work on."

"Philip.."

But Philip was already flouncing his way through George's flat and slamming the door.

"Philip!"

He threw the door open to yell at the dark curls that were retreating.

"Philip, don't do this!"

But he was already gone and now there was nothing George could do but sit at his vanity and cry for the loss.


	2. Too Much Jealousy

Disclaimer: Though they are fictional characters from a show, they are based on real people. I do not own these people or the people who own them.

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**Too Much Jealousy**

Philip was standing behind the rope letting people in, as usual, when George showed up late.

A woman with big, blue hair stepped past Philip and they kissed each other on either cheek and Philip swatted at her behind as she skipped inside. He was too busy focusing on ignoring George to be as picky as he usually was about who he let in. It wasn't until George got behind him and rested his chin on his shoulder that Philip was forced to acknowledge his existence.

"You're going to get your cakey makeup on my fabulous outfit. Kindly remove your chin."

"Philip, you can't still be mad at me."

"I can and I am. Besides, you're late for work. Your annoying crossdresser friend has had to check all the coats tonight. I imagine it's interrupting a nap she could be taking or something."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I was--"

"With _Marcus_, I suppose. Quite understandable. He can't very well take over your life without, you know, taking over, can he?"

"Philip.. he's not. I was talking to some guys I met. They've got a band and they're looking for a singer! Isn't it lucky?"

"Lucky as a broken mirror. I'm thrilled, darling. Really. Get in there and get to work."

Other than the fact that Philip sounded less than thrilled, to say the least, the line of people were getting visibly impatient.

George had no choice but to walk into the club and get to work in the coat check. As Philip watched him go in, he rolled his eyes and turned to the next person in line.

"'bout time he finally left," said a girl wearing a small pink vinyl skirt that matched her shockingly pink hair.

"Mm, quite. Hello, darling! I love the pink! Very shocking, very urban, very trashy. It suits you."

The next person in line shocked Philip even more.

"Marcus. What do _you_ want here?"

"I came to see George. I need to talk with him."

"Pity. George is working and you're a bitch. Don't you have some beer to drink and women to seduce?"

"Ahaha." But there was no smile. "Philip, please? It's really important."

"Fine. But in and out. Don't step a foot into _my_ club. It's the one thing of mine you can't steal. It's too big."

As Marcus went in, another figure appeared behind him.

"Speaking of big! Susan, darling! You're looking fabulously grotesque."

"Oh, Philip. What would my night be without getting insulted by you?"

"It wasn't an insult. It was the closest thing to a compliment I could give you looking like that."

"You're so sweet."

"I know. Isn't it wonderful? I don't even have to try!"

"Was that Marcus?"

"I don't know. Was it?"

"Your not still sore over him and George are you?"

"Sore? Me? I think the only sore one is Marcus. You know how those virgins can be."

"Very well, then, Philip. Be elusive."

"I'm not discussing this right now, Sue. Least of all with you. Are you going in or not?"

Sue clapped a hand on Philip's shoulder and gave him a wan smile as she stepped inside.

The next man who stepped up to the rope was a tall, thin boy wearing a blue and black striped sweater and red plaid pants. He put his hand on Philip's shoulder as he leaned up to whisper something in his ear.

"Do my shoulders say 'touch me' tonight? What is this? And besides, that sweater is _hideous_. Come back when you can-- well, don't ever come back."

He brushed the boy off and sent him away, tossing his hair out of his face.

When he finally closed the rope for the final time that night he went inside to oversee things inside the club. As badly as he wanted to just stay out front to avoid accidentally overhearing any questionably cute things George and Marcus might be saying to each other, he figured, if nothing else, he could go in and kick Marcus out.

With this new idea in his head, Philip stuck out his chest and swayed into the club, making a stop at the coat check. Rather than seeing George and Marcus talking as he'd expected, all he found was Marilyn laying on the counter in an extremely short dress filing her nails.

"Where's the boy, Goldilocks?"

"Talking to Marcus in the back."

"Should've guessed. And get off there! You'll frighten them all away with your obscenely white legs. Among other things."

"You're just jealous because you could never pull this off."

"No, I'm jealous that my life doesn't consist of lounging about filing my nails when there are things to be done. Now get up! _Up_! _Now_!"

"Alright, alright. You don't have to screech at me."

"I was not _screeching_. I was being.. _emphatic_."

When Philip left, Marilyn didn't move, but opted instead to begin filing the other hand.

Philip pushed his way through the sea of coats to the back room where he found George and Marcus, not talking as Marilyn had said, but doing something else entirely.

He had entered the room talking, telling George to get back out front but fell silent when he saw them.

Marcus zipped his fly, blushing furiously and George rose cooly to his feet, wiping at the corners of his mouth.

"Hullo, Philip," George smiled and kissed Philip on the cheek on his way out front.

His thumb and middle finger were over his eyes; trying, without much luck, to erase the vision he'd just seen. When George kissed him, he wiped his cheek and then waved his hand after George almost frantically.

When he opened his eyes, Marcus was looking at the floor sheepishly.

"_You_.."

"Philip, I-- it just sort of.."

"Shh! _Shut up_. Just.. don't speak right now. No, get out of my sight. _Out_! _Out out out_!"

For once, Marcus didn't protest and did as he was told.

If what had happened affected Philip in anyway, no one knew. Marcus left and George sat silently at the coat check, as he should have been doing all night. Philip had stormed off to the dance floor to mingle and to forget about what he'd seen, he went to the bar.

He told no one about what happened that night.


	3. You're Nothing Special To Me

Disclaimer: Though they are fictional characters from a show, they are based on real people. I do not own these people or the people who own them.

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**You're Nothing Special To Me**

Then Planets closed.

And, with it, a little part of Philip died.

Without the excuse of having to plan and design and run everything with the club, he was hard pressed to find a good excuse to avoid George. Not that it was a problem. George was busy tending to Marcus and his fledging career. It was more keeping George off his mind that was the problem.

As soon as Planets closed everything seemed to go downhill in the worst way possible. Sue was never around, Marilyn was hot on George's heels everywhere he went pestering him about his own interests and George; well, George was off in his own little world most of the time. Between his band and his man, he had a full plate.

Philip was helpless.

He still attended the clubs - made his appearances, as was neccessary, but it almost seemed a lost cause anymore.

One night at Taboo, George decided to grace the club with his presence. He was greeted with the usual fanfare, but Philip just did as he usually did where George was concerned and faded into the background.

Needless to say he was shocked when George sought him out.

"Philip! Come here, yeah?"

Philip looked left and right and then behind him, cocked an eyebrow and gestured grandly to himself. "_Me_?"

"Of course you! You're the only Philip I know."

"But I thought you were _above _speaking to us underlings, dear."

"Philip, please don't do this to me right now. We need to talk."

George's usually flawless makeup was running down his cheeks and his eyes were puffy as though he'd been crying for hours. Philip's face fell, as well as his act. He immeadiately went to George, frowning and pulling him into the bathroom where they could talk.

"What the matter, darling? You look dreadful."

"I know. I can't help it. He's gone and broke it off again, Philip."

Oh.

He.

Him.

_Marcus_.

"Oh, come _here_."

He pulled George into a hug and didn't even complain when his favourite purple coat got George's makeup on it. He simply ran his fingers through his friend's hair and let him cry.

"I don't know what I do wrong. I try so hard and it's just never enough for him or it's not the right thing and I don't know why! I love him, Philip. Why is it like this? It's like he does it on purpose."

"Shh, I know, pet. And I'm sorry. He's a loathesome little _wretch_ and you're above that, darling. _Really_, you are."

Philip pressed a small kiss to the top of George's head, losing his fingers in the brown waves as he pulled him closer.

The eyeliner that was running down George's cheeks seemed almost intentional and Philip couldn't help but think how pretty he was - even like this. _Especially_ like this. It was the only time he ever needed Philip.

"What did I do wrong, Philip?"

"You did nothing wrong, dear," He cupped George's face in his hands and looked him in the eye, "_nothing_. I'm sure of it. And I'm sure you're a _wonderful_ boyfriend. He just doesn't know what he wants and you're the one that ends up hurt because of it. _Ooh_, I could _kill_ him."

"Don't say that."

"It's _true_!"

"It hurts me."

"I'm sorry." There was a slight pause before Philip had to add quietly, "But it _is_ true."

"D'you really think I'm a good boyfriend?"

Philip couldn't help but stiffen a bit at the question. A million snarky remarks ran through his mind before he responded.

"Yes. You're caring and loving and sweet and have an absolute _genius_ for making people feel wanted."

George caught the bit of sarcasm that couldn't escape the sentence.

"Is that why you avoid me?"

"_I'm _not your boyfriend. And I don't _avoid_ you."

"You won't take my calls, you never talk to me and when I find you, you always walk away. That's not avoiding me?"

"No. And I'm with you now, aren't I? So stop bitching, will you? And besides, this isn't _my_ fault, now _is_ it? _No_."

"Fuck you, then! I don't need you! You're a jealous bitch, you always have been!"

"You say that as though I have some great need of you. Well, I've got news for you, Mister Boy George: I don't. And neither does anyone else around here. We've got our own lives to live."

"Fine!"

"Fine."

"Alright!"

"Okay."

"Okay!"

"Oh, come on, George. This is getting ridiculous. _Honestly_."

"Well, fuck you too, then, Philip!"

"Yes, yes, fuck me. It's _always_ me, isn't it? I don't need this."

And with that, Philip was gone.

George had a strange way of driving people away when he really needed them, but Philip had stuck around through the strorm more than once and the payoff, in his experience, was not worth the Hell he went through to get it.

Not anymore.


	4. Desperation Pushes Love Away

Disclaimer: Though they are fictional characters from a show, they are based on real people. I do not own these people or the people who own them.

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**Desperation Pushes Love Away**

Not long after Taboo opened, George started using drugs.

He was famous now and it came with the territory, right?

After the night in the bathroom, things had never quite healed between Philip and George. They were on speaking terms, but it was very different. Then George and Marcus got back together and Philip was, as he usually was, left behind.

Sue had her hands full with Leigh, well, more keeping Nicola away for a few hours at a time so she could see Leigh once in a while. Marilyn, ever the Boy George groupie, kept herself busy spending George's money and leeching off of him, just as she always had.

With no club to tend to and preoccupied friends, Philip was left with little to do but sit around and dwell on the past. It was his favourite hiding place. In the past, he could be the happier, gorgeous version of himself that he wanted to be at all times. In his past there was no Marcus and no Leigh and no Nicola. Planets never closed and the freaks all still fell at his feet begging him to let them in.

As he begged George to let him in in the present.

There was no reasoning with his drug-addled friend and since it killed him a little more everytime he tried, he didn't anymore. Those who didn't know what had actually happened took it as Philip abandoning George.

As though he would _ever_ do such a thing.

Then it happened. The bomb had dropped.

Marcus had sold a story to The Sun about George.

Everyone knew it was him - who else could it have been? No one else but Marilyn was close enough to George to get that sort of information and bitchy as Marilyn was, even _she_ would never sink _that_ low.

Because of Marcus' story, George was arrested and, though Philip would never admit it, he would rather see George in prison than on drugs. It seemed that there was some bit of good Marcus did but that didn't excuse that it was a low and deceitful way to do it. Plus he'd sold George out, the bastard.

Philip was desperate to do something to prove to someone, probably himself, that he hadn't abandoned George as everyone thought so he sought Marcus out to confront him about the story.

Until that point, love of George had prevented him from clawing Marcus' eyes out everytime he saw the fake bastard but Philip was able to push the thought of George's reaction out of his mind for a few hours to finally do what he'd been meaning to do from the very beginning.

He was going to denounce Marcus to their world as the vile creature that he truly was.

Lucky that Marcus had his mates surrounding him. Two against one was hardly fair, but all's fair in love and war.

The broken man they left bleeding on the street was not the same one that had come to confront Marcus. Marcus wasn't as horrid as he'd originally thought - he hadn't taken the money. And if the truth that Marcus was the bad guy was no longer a truth, where did that leave _him_? Philip found that in the real world he was not invincible as he was in his. He could not change people and he could not live their lives for them.

He could love them, but that didn't mean they were obligated to love him back.

They were not obligated and so they didn't.

Once Philip had resigned himself to this, he found that he could move past it.

The gorgeous and strong creature of the night that seemingly thought and cared only of and for himself had learned that the real world made him ugly and weak. He could not fend for himself there and in the real world the only laws honoured were the laws of the self. There were no heroes and no right to fight for.

Decency needed not apply.


End file.
